


Missing You

by ceaselesslyinlove



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, post 2x15 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 10:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6280945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceaselesslyinlove/pseuds/ceaselesslyinlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a quick drabble of laurel missing frank<br/>post 2x15 finale - look out for spoilers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing You

**Author's Note:**

> i'm actually feeling very positive in regards to how they left flaurel for season 3. laurel still clearly cares for frank and both of them are still on good terms. i'd like to think this is a set up for laurel eventually acknowledging her love for frank at some point in the future season.

She enters his apartment with a heavy sigh, throwing her bag down and walks to the bourbon, or at least what’s left of it.

Despite the fact that it’s been two months since the truth came out and Frank disappeared, Laurel still finds herself walking to his place, just wanting to find some kind of intimacy with him, even in his absence.

She’s given up denying her feelings.  Hating Frank, moving on from Frank…that will never be a reality.  If these past two months have taught her anything, it’s that despite everything, she’s still in love with him.  After the third night in a row when she found herself sleeping in his sheets again, she’d stopped the denial. 

It’s too bad it took him leaving for her to figure that out.

Pouring herself a drink, she turns to sit on the couch, looking into the kitchen. Too easily, she can imagine the smell of his homemade sauce, the sound of the stove, and Frank…Frank in his stupid perfect apron smiling as he turns to look at her with those laughing eyes and comments on how much she’s going to love dinner.

She gulps down her drink and stands up for another.

It’s nights like tonight, when she’s drunk and sad, when she pulls out her phone and scrolls down to Frank’s name.  She doesn’t call him often anymore. In the beginning, she tried calling him all the time, demanding he call her back and tell her where he is.  

She doesn’t want to think of the number of calls.

Tonight, she stares down at his selfie, which now seems to look at her in mockery.  Angrily, she hits the call button and waits for the voicemail.

“It’s Frank. Leave a message.”

She closes her eyes, the sound of his voice soothing her.

“Hey…it’s me again.”

She pauses, locking down the wobble in her voice and training her eyes down on her glass.

“I know asking where you are is pointless now.  There hasn’t been a trace of you since…since Mahoney.  Hell, I don’t even know if you’re listening to these messages.”

She swallows again, a steady breath.

“I think I keep hoping you’ll answer, give me some kind of sign you’re okay.  I can’t…I can’t leave this alone until I know that.  Just, please can you give me that?”

She closes the call before she can say anything else that sounds desperate.  Which is what she is.  Desperate.

None of them know that she still comes here, literally just to sit and drink.  Or do homework on his kitchen counter, the atmosphere of his home one of the only places left she finds comfort in.  Definitely none of them know what she sometimes does next.

Walking into the bedroom, she only bothers taking off her shoes before slipping into Frank’s side of the bed, his scent instantly enveloping her in a warm embrace.  She pushes her face into the pillow, inhaling deeply and never, since he left, has she felt this close to him.

She can’t bring herself to care if this is too creepy or weird.  She’s too in love with him to care.


End file.
